


A Lord Needs a Lady

by ardentmuse



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bathing/Washing, Book 1: A Game of Thrones, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Godswood, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Reader-Insert, Romance, Touching, ardentmuse almost 2k celebration, noble!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-31 16:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentmuse/pseuds/ardentmuse
Summary: tumblr request: Hey, Lia! Congrats on your 2k! You deserve every bit of happiness! If it's not too much to ask... I'd like number 37 with Robb Stark (or Scott Lang, if it's too complicated with Robb). Thank you so much! Sending all the love!





	A Lord Needs a Lady

The dew upon the ground turned to frost in just the few hours since sunset, crunching under your feet with each memorized step. Winter had yet to begin properly but the chill of the northern air on nights like this made it hard to tell the difference. 

You could hear the sounds of the feast in the great hall of the castle; jolly songs of wartime victories and beautiful maidens, the clang of mugs upon wooden tables, the rowdy laughter of men speaking words within the walls of such a noble house that should be saved for the brothels, and the groping hands – so many groping hands – were enough to put you off your dinner. Winterfell had been abuzz since the moment King Robert and his cohort had arrived, just a mess of chaos of courtly duties. 

Honestly, you had trained for this sort of thing your whole life as a ward of the Starks and daughter of nobles in your own right, but seeing the ways of the southern houses in earnest made you quite glad for the lands of your birth. Calm, honorable, and hardy were your people, people who understood that the food they ate and the wine they drank and the fire that warmed them took time and effort to come into being, that people had to put work into creating comfort and that work should not go unappreciated or uncompensated. Fortitude and respect were the values you saw befitting of a noble and on display at the high table of the Stark family great hall at the moment was nothing of the sort. When you thought of good leadership, you couldn’t help but picture Lord Stark and the son he had raised to take his place, men truly worthy of your loyalty and, in the latter’s case, worthy of even more. 

The sounds faded in full as you became surrounded by a soft canopy of trees. The crunching of your feet was drowned out by the soft babble of the hot spring before you and the wanderings of your mind were eliminated by the imposing presence of the weirwood tree before you, impossibly beautiful and haunting all at once. No one seemed to enter the godswood nowadays, least of all your southern visitors. There was no better place to be alone.

The chilly wind rushed through your hair as you took in the steam rising off the water. Slowly, you undid the ties of your cloak, a dark grey wool lined with the warmest fur and embellished in white flowers, a gift from Sansa as she practiced her stitches last year. Your dress flowed from your hips in a beautiful cascade of aquamarine, not much different from the waters that tempted you right now. Your hands moved off their own accord as you took in the silence of the night. Each bow and lace fell open with your breathing. Calm and peace was this place. You hated the thoughts that filled your mind of just how that might change forever with your latest arrivals. 

The cloth pooled at your feet and soon you were covered in a chill, goose pimples lining your exposed arms and shins as your shift and smallclothes did little to maintain your body temperature. You tested the waters before you with your toe and were about to step in when you remembered yourself. You reached up and removed that small golden clasp that held the crown of your hair out of the way. Now you were fit for the waters. 

Feeling like Elenei herself, you took graceful steps into the waters, like your body was returning to its home. You felt the warmth immediately as the white cloth of your small clothes stuck to your skin leaving nothing to the imagination. But this was a cleansing ritual, a removal of the grim of the south and a return to the purity of your true form. You were a goddess of winter, one with the weirwoods, and here, away from the wretched queen and her handsy guards, you felt like yourself once again. 

You closed your eyes, letting the minutes pass by, feeling truly at home.

“My lady,” a voice called from the other end of the godswood. 

Immediately, your eyes shot open and you made to protect your modesty, but the night was dark, only the moon shining through the thick layer of trees above. You could hardly make out the form in the trees. 

“I was hoping I might find you here,” said the man who now slowly moved towards you. His voice removed any tension you had felt at being caught in a compromised position. Robb moved with cautious steps, giving you a moment to sink deeper into the water, always a gentleman. 

“My lord,” you stuttered as you moved to grab your clothes, though the rise of his hand stopped you. 

“You know, it’s just Robb, Y/N. I’ve had enough ‘m’ lord’s’ for one day,” Robb said before taking a seat upon the rocks a safe distance from you. He leaned forward with his hands upon his knees and back bent in exhaustion. The moonlight caught the red of his hair, so styled at the moment compared to the loose fall of curls you were so used to seeing. The sharp line of his jaw that had grown so strong since you were small children playing hide and seek in these woods was locked tight in concentration. This was a man sitting before you, with all the seriousness of his father at the moment. 

“Then, Robb, what brings you out here?”

“You,” he said immediately, looking up to meet your gaze. He smiled that half-smile you liked so much and all the Ned of his form somehow washed away, “Knew you’d find a way to sneak away the moment the drink started flowing.” 

You laughed. He did have you pegged. 

“Is there something wrong with wanting a moment of peace and quiet?” 

“Yes,” his voice was stern and serious; “You’re supposed to invite me with you.” 

You both sat in silence for a moment before Robb bust out laughing. 

“Gods, I just waltz over here while you’re bathing, didn’t I?” 

You watched him for a moment, enjoying seeing the boy once again behind the lord he was so quickly becoming.

“Yes, you did,” you said with a smile, “Though having you interrupt me isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice a little too high. You thought you saw a bit of pink on his cheeks as the clouds moved through, revealing new light into your clearing. 

You simply nodded before resting once again deep against the stones that lined your pool. Together you enjoyed your silent companionship once more. You mind was clear except for the gentle breathing of the handsome man before you. When had he grown so dashing, it was hard to tell. One day you were tiny things, playing house in these woods, climbing trees and sharing secrets as you each skipped out of your lessons. And now here you were, a man and woman grown, as close as two could be without a cloak upon your shoulder and a vow upon your lips. 

Little did you know, Robb had placed that vow upon his own lips as soon as he understood what love was. The cloak was simply a formality.

Robb shrugged off his cloak. “How is it in there, anyway?” He nodded towards the water, the steak almost obscuring your vision at this point with how the cold had rolled in. 

You sighed in enjoyment of the warmth upon your skin. “I’d say it’s like 50 million simultaneous orgasms, but better.” 

Robb chuckled to himself before coughing, “Whoever has been giving you orgasms is clearly failing you.” 

You felt your cheeks grow hot the way only Robb words or touch could ever do to you. But somehow, despite how much you knew such talk was wrong when you heard it in the halls of Winterfell, here with Robb in the eyes of the old gods, it felt completely natural. 

“How dare you insult my hands so. They are lovely hands, I’d have you know!” 

You watched Robb swallow, unable to meet your eyes anymore. 

He hesitated before speaking once again, so quiet you worried what he said wasn’t meant for your ears, “No one has ever helped you in such a way?”

“No, Robb,” you whispered, realizing only now that you wouldn’t mind Robb helping you in such ways, “If you recall, I was raised a lady.” 

“A beautiful lady,” he said into the night, “A remarkably beautiful lady.” 

You felt your breath catch in your chest and only after a moment were you able to look up and meet the pleading blue eyes of the boy you loved so, the lord of your heart as much as of your lands and your home. 

“A lord needs such a lady,” he added as he stood and took hesitant steps towards you. You couldn’t breathe as his form grew closer, like a mountain moving before you, shifting the seas of your heart with each step. Somehow, in all of this chaos, the love of children had grown into something earth-shattering, something worth sacrificing your honor for. 

He reached the edge of the pool, his eyes never leaving yours and never dipping to look below the waters, clear enough to reveal to him the parts of yourself meant to stay hidden. His hands played with the clasps of his doublet.

“May I?” he asked. And no matter what he meant, you knew in that moment the answer was yes.

With you nod, Robb began to disrobe, his clothes slowly forming a pile beside your own, separate but together, just as you two seemed to always be. 

You had seen Robb without his shirt before as you watched the men train in the yard but this was different. This was meant for your eyes, Robb bearing himself for you in earnest, his heart exposed as much as his body. And soon he too was sinking into the warm pools of the gods had left for such unions, the swirling waters pulling you together like stars in orbit.

He sunk down to his shoulders as he bobbed towards you. Your knees touched as he came as close as he dared, his eyes still never leaving yours. Their piercing blue seemed so warm in the glow of the moonlight, a different kind of water you now desired to swim in. 

“Father is leaving before the next moon,” he whispered. Robb’s hand hesitantly came to touch your jaw, your ear, the soft skin of you neck. His touch sent shivers wherever it went but you held still, afraid your movement might scare him away. But Robb was a wolf, and wolves are not so easily deterred from their prey, not that you wouldn’t gladly be eaten if he so desired it.

Robb continued, “I’ll be Lord of Winterfell in truth.” He moved closer, his skin pressing against your wet clothes, against your body that lie just underneath them. The warmth of him was so much more intoxicating that the waters ever could be. “And a lord needs a lady.” 

His hand moved to your chin as he tilted your head up to him look at him again. The softness you saw there, only for you, made it clear that it was a question and not a statement. It only took you a moment to nod, a promise before the old gods that the man before you was yours and you were his. 

With a bright smile, Robb leaned forward and kissed you. His hand found your lower back and pulled you flush to him and your whole body lit on fire. No night had ever been warmer.

And as your hands found firm grip in his long auburn locks, you knew too that the cloak was just a formality.

**Author's Note:**

> https://ardentmuse.tumblr.com/post/187989931261/hey-lia-congrats-on-your-2k-you-deserve-every


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